Her Willful White: Dark Duke’s Legacy Book 2

by Andresen, Tammy

  Or Fleur very well could be afraid of prison.

  He scanned her face and noticed an amulet hanging about her neck. It looked old, like an heirloom and of exceptionally high quality. An emerald winked from its center, catching even the small light in the room. “What is that?”

  Her hand came up to clasp the heavy metal. “It was my grandmother’s.”

  He grimaced. “Take it off.”

  “What?” she clutched it tighter.

  “I need some sort of assurance. Give me the amulet. When you return tonight to answer all my questions, I’ll see it’s given back to you. Don’t return, and I’ll drop it in the middle of the Channel. Do we understand one another?”

  She gave a tentative nod and then, with a pained expression, slid the heavy gold chain over her head. “I’ll be back for it.”

  “I’m sure you will.” He placed it around his own neck and then stood, with her in his arms.

  “What are you doing?” she clutched his shoulders.

  “I’m taking you home. My carriage is just at the end of the pier. You can rest while we drive.” Silently he added, he’d also learn where she lived. And he had every intention of setting up a guard. He’d know if she went anywhere or talked to anyone. He was reasonable enough, hence why he was returning her home, but he wasn’t a fool.

  “I’ve a cousin that lives just outside of London but it’s far more country than here,” she said. “My mother’s been begging for me to go visit. Get some country air, clear my head.”

  He’d made his way down the plank and was striding across the pier. “I see.” What was she trying to tell him?

  “I’ve no intention of actually going,” she whispered. “But perhaps I shall tell my mother that I will. For a few days. Then I can help you.”

  That made his feet slow. Fleur would lie to her family. Interesting.

  But it also occurred to him that he’d have the beautiful tempting French flower within his grasp for several uninterrupted days. And while he had no intention of any sort of relationship with her, he couldn’t deny she was tempting. “Twenty minutes ago, you nearly fainted out of fear of me.”

  “I nearly fainted because of exhaustion,” she fired back. “And besides, now that you’re returning me home, I know what sort of man you are.”

  Did she? Because he didn’t feel like a particularly good one at the moment. All he could think about was about having the beautiful Fleur tucked in his bed. “I am a man who many fear.”

  She turned her head to the side giving him a long and appraising stare. Her gaze travelled up and down his frame. “I understand. You are very large and rather…” she paused. “Fierce looking.” Her voice had a lilting quality and her accent danced along his nerves, making them hum with awareness.

  “Some women find my fierceness arresting.”

  She smiled then. A knowing smile that stole the air from his lungs. “Oh, I would imagine so. Especially when they discover what is underneath the scowl.”

  He didn’t want to ask.

  She likely was the spy, and this was her attempt to seduce him to distract him from his suspicion. It seemed like the sort of thing a spy might do.

  Then again, her words had rung with a truth that was hard to deny. A French spy named Le Serpent seemed a far more likely culprit to have lit his ship on fire than a petite woman with an English mother. Or was that his attraction talking? “What was your father’s name?”

  “Philippe Dupont,” she said as they reached his carriage and he climbed in, still holding her in his arms.

  He gently set her on the seat across from him, sliding in the rear facing seat. “And the address where we’re going?”

  She visibly hesitated, her lips parting as she sucked in a breath. Had she not anticipated that he’d ask? Curious.

  “Follow the cliffs.”

  He stared at her. “Your cottage is near the cliffs?”

  She had the decency to blush. “On them, really.”

  “Who is your mother?”

  She sighed. “Mrs. Evelyn Dupont.”

  He let out a quick breath of frustration. “Fleur. Who was she before that?”

  Fleur looked out the window. “Lady Evelyn Westmore.”

  He swore a string of curses under his breath. That changed everything. Fleur was the granddaughter or niece of a bloody earl. Westmore was the family name of the Earl of Aberdeen. It didn’t make her less likely to be a spy, it just meant he couldn’t go about traipsing around town with her. Nor could she return to the docks tonight. The plan was completely ruined. “Damn it all to bloody hell.”

  * * *

  Fleur sensed the change in him. He’d relaxed somewhat when they’d left the boat. Or perhaps when he’d held her in the chair. His jaw was hard as granite, every line in his body conveying tension. He knew who her family was and…he didn’t like it. Clearly.

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  “Hell is where the bad people go,” he snapped.

  “I know what hell is,” she replied, sitting up straighter. “I meant, why have you gotten so tense?”

  Her grimaced. “I’m glad you convinced me to return you to your family. But you’re not to return to me this evening. Period.”

  She raised a brow then. Granted, she was still in his carriage, but she was no longer a prisoner on his boat. “You’ve got my amulet. Of course, I am returning. You are not my keeper, Lord White.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “True. But I know who is.”

  She drew in a sharp breath. He was right about that. A whispered word to her uncle and she’d be absolutely housebound. “You wouldn’t.”

  His gaze narrowed. “It’s not a bad plan. I could ensure you didn’t cause any more trouble.”

  “I didn’t cause any trouble in the first place.” She sniffed outwardly but inwardly her stomach clenched. Her uncle, her mother’s brother, had never liked her father. He’d wanted his sister to marry an English lord not a French peasant as she’d once heard him call her father. Any whiff of impropriety on her part and he’d see her trussed and wed. At one and twenty, he’d already been grumbling about her approaching spinsterhood if she didn’t find a husband soon. If not for her father’s death, her uncle would likely have been parading her about the salons of London this season. “I was trying to prevent it.”

  She rubbed her head, as it throbbed with the reminder of her failure. She’d not gotten any closer to Le Serpent and she’d taken terribly large risks. Hopefully, her mother would sleep late, and she’d get a few hours of rest.

  She really was achingly, bone tired.

  “So, you say,” he murmured quietly. “What I need to decide now is what to do about you.”

  “Do? About me?” She dropped her hands. “You do not need to do anything about me.”

  He leaned forward. “I disagree.” Very casually, he touched the gold chain, her gold chain, dangling about his neck. “First, I need to know what other information you have.”

  “You say that like there is a second.” She clenched her hands in her lap. Meeting him tonight was one thing. In that scenario, she was still running her investigation. But the longer this conversation went on the more she felt control slipping away.

  “There is…a second. I need to know you’re not causing trouble and…” he stopped. His eyes narrowed as he stared at her, his arms crossing over his chest. His jaw worked as he continued to silently assess her.

  “What?” Her breath caught.

  “I’ve an idea,” he said, flicking open the curtain. “I see Lord Aberdeen’s estate on the horizon. I’m going to let you out on the road to not arouse suspicion. My carriage can’t be seen pulling up to your home at this time of day.”

  “Good idea.” She scooted further out on the seat, her fingers pressed together. “What is your idea?”

  “You should go.” He looked out the window, frowning at the sun just peeking over the horizon. “If you don’t leave now, you’re likely to be caught.”

  Now he was
eager for her to leave? “Yes. That’s correct. But I still want to know what you’re planning.”

  He snapped open the door. “I’ll tell you later.”

  “But you just said not to come tonight.”

  “I did,” he answered. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this under control.”

  She let out a quick huff of frustration. Don’t worry? Unlikely. “You’re infuriating—”

  He reached for her arm and began tugging her off the seat. “I’ll see you very soon, my little flower.”

  See her soon? When? How?

  But she let him pull her off the seat and then she climbed out. Because he was right. The servants would be stirring very soon. She couldn’t be caught now.

  As she hurried toward the house, she had the feeling she’d just been outwitted or perhaps just outwilled. She sighed. Destrian White from start to finish was not a complication she’d expected. And while she’d been comfortable investigating a murdering spy, Dez completely and utterly confounded her.

  He was a beast.

  He was a good man.

  He was both in one infuriatingly handsome package.

  Lord she hoped she didn’t regret meeting him, confiding in him. But she had the distinct impression that she would regret it. Very much.

  Chapter Four

  Dez sat across from the Earl of Aberdeen, nearly regretting this choice.

  Fortunately, regret was not in his nature.

  The man looked down his nose at Dez. “I’d just like to make sure I’m clear. You…” He emphasized the word you, his lip curling about the single syllable. “Want my permission to lay favor on my niece?”

  Dez knew all about intimidation.

  His own father had been a master.

  Dez remembered a time when his brother had been given a puppy. Ben had probably been ten to Dez’s eight. Ben had gotten into some bit of trouble after Sunday Mass and their father had insisted that Ben attend again that day. When Ben had refused, their father had taken the dog, giving it to Dez. “His name will be Sin,” his father had commanded in a deep voice. “And every time you pet him, be reminded that your brother’s sin brought him into your hands.”

  Staring at the man across from the ornate mahogany desk, Dez wanted to laugh at the earl. After a father like that, did the other man actually expect a little glaring to scare him? “That’s what I said.”

  “Forgive me, Lord White, but you met my niece where?”

  This was the tricky part. He knew very little about Fleur’s normal activities and he couldn’t very well tell the truth. After all, he’d met her in the docks in the middle of the night. Revealing that information would ruin her.

  And he didn’t actually wish to begin courtship rituals with the woman. He simply needed an excuse to have access to her.

  Granted, she’d be chaperoned but at least they’d get some opportunity to talk, and he could keep track of what she was doing.

  But he’d bluff his way through. He was a man who often acted on instinct and it always seemed to take him down the correct path. “I saw her walking about the village. I can confess to being stunned by her beauty.” All true. Unfortunately for him. “My brother knew her identity.”

  “His Grace knew of her?” The man smiled, preening. “She is rather attractive; I will give her that. Is your brother…looking to make a match?”

  Dez grimaced. Lord Aberdeen had his sights set on a duke for his niece, did he? He clearly didn’t approve of the second son, not even when he was currently second in line for a dukedom. “No. He is already engaged.”

  The other man grimaced. “Have you been introduced to her?”

  Dez shook his head. “Perhaps you could make the introduction.” While he was certain Aberdeen would prefer Ben to Dez, their family was a powerful one. And Fleur’s ties to society were rather…loose. Not that Dez cared, but it was certainly a card he could play. “She is your sister’s daughter?”

  The other man leaned back a frown marking his brow. “That is correct.”

  “And her father?” he asked, his shoulder’s relaxing. He had the earl now. Her father’s status made Fleur less attractive to would-be suitors of the peerage. The earl would have to admit that Dez was a good option.

  Not that he actually intended to wed Fleur. He’d never formalize the courtship. But he could still see her in a chaperoned environment, and glean what he needed to know without potentially compromising her. All the while keeping an eye on her activities.

  The man’s face pinched, his nostrils flaring. “My wife is hosting a tea this afternoon. I will add my sister and her daughter to the guest list.”

  His brows lifted as he stared across the desk. Clearly, they hadn’t been on the list prior to his request. He supposed it was reasonable since they were in mourning but even at that, most people visited within their own residence.

  “And, of course, we’d be honored by your attendance.”

  “Thank you,” he said with a knowing smile. “That should do nicely. “

  The man’s hands spread out in front of him on the desk. Like many lords, his hands were white, the skin unbroken by labor. “I feel the need to warn you…”

  Dez forgot the man’s hands, focusing on his words. “Yes?” Would he learn something important about Fleur?

  “Her mother had a fiercely independent streak. Married that Frenchman…” The other man waved his hand. “He was a wild man. An adventurer and trouble from the first. From everything I’ve seen of Fleur, she shares her mother’s nature.”

  “A wild man and an independent spirit?” he asked, his brows lifting. That sounded about right. And damned intriguing, if Dez were being honest. His own family was a bit wild. She’d fit right in. Which was ridiculous. There was no room in his life for a wife. A lover perhaps, but Fleur was not the sort. Or was she? “What did he do that was wild?”

  Aberdeen gave him a quizzical glance. “Why do you wish to know?”

  “I’m considering marrying your niece.” He gave his own stern glance. The one his father had helped in hone over years of practice. “It is my business to know.”

  The man cleared his throat. “He owned a vineyard and was forever gallivanting all over Europe selling wine. Until the war, anyhow.”

  Dez leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. What had happened when the war broke out? “But he left the vineyard to come to England?”

  Westford’s face flushed. There was more to this story. “Yes.”

  “Why did they return?”

  Westford blinked. “His wife was English.”

  Dez frowned as he sat back. Did that mean that Fleur’s father was an English sympathizer or a spy for France that could move easily across the border? “Did it become unsafe?”

  Aberdeen shook his head. “Of course not. I’m sure Dupont knew he was ill and wanted to return Evelyn before his death. Evelyn swears that he was the picture of health, but he didn’t die just weeks after arriving by accident.”

  Dez frowned, deliberately relaxing his hands. Aberdeen wasn’t going to tell him anything incriminating, not on their first meeting. And he’d see Fleur again later. He’d be able to ask her more questions then.

  But the more he knew, the more the mystery seemed to deepen. Was he moving closer to figuring out who had sabotaged his ship?

  The sooner he could solve the mystery, the sooner he could get back to his life, his business and his carefree bachelor ways.

  Because no matter what he’d just told the earl, the last thing Dez wanted was a family. He already cared for his siblings, raising them and protecting them from the moment his brother had left them behind.

  He’d not repeat his father’s mistakes by attempting to have a family of his own.

  * * *

  Fleur cracked open her eyes as someone threw back the curtains of her room, filling the room with bright afternoon light. The sun was high in the sky which meant she’d actually managed some measure of sleep, though, judging by the heaviness of her limbs, it hadn’t be
en nearly enough.

  Then again, she might be able to sleep for a week straight.

  After several nights prowling about in search of a spy, she was beyond exhausted.

  It was her maid, Mary, who stood next to her bed now. “It’s time to get up, Miss.”

  A second set of footsteps sounded on the floor and Fleur picked up a heavy head to see her mother crossing to the other side of her bed.

  “You look terrible,” her mother said, her voice rising in question and full of concern. “Are you feeling all right?” Her brow crinkled in concern. “You’re not ill, are you? You’ve been so pale of late.”

  Fleur could have cursed herself. With her father’s unexpected passing, was it any wonder her mother was worried? “I’m not sick. I promise. I’m just not sleeping well.”

  Her mother nodded. “Me either. All I can think of is your papa.”

  Papa. Even the name made her heart heavier in her chest. Her stomach tightened. His carefree smile rising up in her thoughts. She missed him so terribly. “I know, ma mère.”

  She pulled herself into a sitting position, scrubbing her eyes as her mother sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Life must go on, I suppose.” Her mother looked down at her clasped hands. “Your aunt has invited us for tea this afternoon.”

  Her mouth pressed together before Fleur’s lips pulled down into a frown. Tea? A Saturday afternoon tea was sure to be a social event in the earl’s home, and Fleur and her mother had not been participating in such activities since her father’s passing. A fact that relieved the countess, Fleur was certain. “Why?”

  Fleur caught her mother’s wince. “It would seem you caught the fancy of a local lord.”

  Caught the fancy…her brows drew together. What did that even mean? When would she have met a lord…but then she gasped as she quickly covered her mouth. Destrian White was the only lord she knew here in Dover.

  “You know the man?” Her mother leaned forward. “Lord White. Your Aunt Maribelle mentioned he’s the brother of a duke.”